


Turnabout

by crocodilepatronus



Category: DCU (Comics), Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Hate Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Rape, Red Kryptonite, Revenge, Revenge Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 18:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocodilepatronus/pseuds/crocodilepatronus
Summary: ( WITHOUT CHAPTER DIVISION) Superman crosses a line with Lex Luthor that changes everything between them and turnabout becomes fair play when he has his revenge.





	Turnabout

The summer heat on Mount Monokoa was beginning to get to Clark. Sure, he didn’t sunburn or get heat stroke like anyone else would have but the air was so thick with humidity that it felt like a weight on him and even his hair was going limp, falling in his face even though he’d slicked it back just a few hours ago.

 

Sometimes just because things were easier for Superman, it didn’t mean they were fun. Mount Monoaka was beautiful, close to a shore line with an active tourist town, but Superman wasn’t there to visit. The volcano hadn’t erupted in centuries but it had been showing renewed activity over the last few days. As a safety protocol they needed to redirect the potential lava flows…. which Superman could do in under an hour with his bare hands.

 

Although even for him, digging his fingers into bedrock and moving it from one place to another afforded some effort. But he was almost done. And he’d promised himself to stop for a popsicle in town as a reward.

 

Pa had always said that a hard day’s work was its own reward. But even Superman could use incentives sometimes.

 

And even Superman let out a “Goshdarn-“ when the last boulder he was moving burst in his arms and a spray of dust and fragments got in his eyes and up his nose and covered the front of his suit.

 

He coughed, swept his arm in front of his face to clear the air, and took a deep breath… and then he noticed a familiar feeling he thought he’d forgotten. Like a weight being lifted.

 

The boulder in front of him was cracked down the center and in the middle was a core of pure red stone. When he swiped his fingers across his face and looked down at his suit he saw the dust clinging to him was ruby red in color too. Red kryptonite.

 

It had been years since he’d seen the stuff. Batman’s doing. He’d made it a mission to round up as much of it as he could find all over the world and have it destroyed or locked down under maximum security. They’d agreed it was too dangerous to ever see the light of day and risk Superman going out of control.

 

But now. Now that the effects of it were sinking in again, Superman wondered why he’d ever agreed to that. He felt terrific. Like he was young, like his mind wasn’t burdened by any thoughts of the past or the future, just in the moment and even his body felt lighter. Batman could be such a stick in the mud.

 

Well he’d finished his job at hand and just like before he felt he’d deserved a reward. Though a popsicle would no longer suffice.

 

In an instant he was away from the volcano and in the town. He moved faster on red k. Not caring if he blew some lady’s hat off her head or knocked a street sign over in the midst of his path.

 

Being on red kryptonite felt like flying. Weightless and fickle, like he was riding the wave of his own impulses. And those impulses were different than the ones he felt when he wasn’t on it. Like they came from someplace much deeper in him, parts he usually suppressed, and were allowed to flourish and become exaggerated until he felt like a whole new person. That’s where “Kal” had come from. A person who could do things “Clark” never would- in fact would do them just to punish Clark sometimes, to push how far he could go, to see how much he could shapeshift from his original self. That original self who was always repressing that dark side. Always scared to do anything but play safe. The part that in his darkest moments he resented. And that only Kal could stamp out.

 

He smoothed his hair back and strolled up to the tiki bar, smirking and throwing a wink toward the group of girls in bikinis who whispered and pointed at his sudden appearance. He’d always had plenty of luck as Clark but ladies loved the caped hero look. He made sure to sweep it back behind him dramatically behind him before he sat down on the bar stool.

 

“I’ll have a Mai Tai.” he said jovially.

 

The bar tender picked his dropped jaw off the floor and scrambled to grab a glass.

 

“…and it’ll be on the house” Clark informed him firmly but with a cheerful smile.

 

One of the girls he’d noticed out of the corner of his eye nervously checking her makeup and readjusting her bikini top to adequately enhance her cleavage was finally making her move, sliding over to where he was sitting as her friends giggled and watched.

 

“You know my sister went to Metropolis U. She got your autograph when you visited campus one time. I was sooo jealous.” she giggled nervously. “Think I could get one now?”

 

She was biting her lower lip, batting her eyelashes. She was cute though she wasn’t really his type. He looked over at the group of her friends watching them. One of them was more his type- dark hair that she meekly tucked behind her ear when he looked her way. Maybe he could have her too. Have both of them. All three.

 

That was the thing about red kryptonite. It made him want and want and want insatiably. But Superman wasn’t like everyone else. When he wanted something, he could take it and nothing could stop him.

 

He took the pen out of the girl’s hand, removing the cap with his teeth and looking up at her through his eyelashes as he smirked. He ignored the cocktail napkin she held out for him to sign and instead began signing directly against the bare skin above her left breast, ending his name with a heart symbol like a tramp stamp of black sharpie ink.

 

The gasp she let out was scandalized but undeniably delighted.

 

The bar tender put his cocktail down on the bar. He threw his head back and downed it in one impressive gulp.

 

He took a step closer to the girl who had asked him for an autograph and slid his hand across her arm.

 

“Let’s skip the small talk part. I know what you want. Are you staying nearby? A hotel or something? Bring your friends. We’ll go there. Together, of course. Just to keep things interesting. And then.”

 

He carded his hand through her hair, carefully watching the emotions that flit across her face. Shock, sure, and maybe a little fear. But mostly lust. He could hear her heart rate jumping, the way her breath caught in her throat at his touch.

 

“And then I can do things to you that no human ever could.” the side of his mouth quirked up. “How does that sound to you?”

 

She stuttered on her own breath as she opened her mouth to try to formulate a response. But she was interrupted by the sound of the television over the bar. Superman snapped his head up to attention at it.

 

A news anchor narrated a series of clips- “Lex Luthor appeared exiting the criminal courts building in Metropolis this morning fresh off of being arraigned on over 30 criminal counts. The billionaire has been cleared of all charges, stating that the accusations levied against him were completely false and made in attempt to defame his company. Stepping back into his C.E.O position, in our brief interview Luthor preferred to talk about the future than ‘dwell’ on the court proceedings.”

 

The video showed Lex leaving the court house, calm and collected in an impeccable Armani suit, his hands in his pockets, surrounded by a security team flanking his sides as reporters crowded around him, illuminating his face with camera flash and shoving microphones toward him.

 

He spoke to a few people briefly as he walked down the steps, securing a pair of leather gloves on as his chauffeur opened the door to the limousine waiting for him.

 

Just before he stepped in, he looked over his shoulder, directly into the eye of the camera. And smirked. Almost as if he was intending it just for Superman to see on the other side of the screen. Then he ducked his head into the back seat of the limo and was gone.

 

Superman’s nails were dug into the wood of the bar. So Lex had gone free again. He shouldn’t be surprised. Why would he be surprised? This was what always happened. Those were the rules of the game they played. Or at least they had been when “Clark” had been in charge. But they didn’t always have to be. He didn’t have to let Lex go on smirking at him, smug and safe in his knowledge that Superman could never touch him, or that he never WOULD.

 

“Change of plans.” Superman said, turning to the girl. “Too bad. Maybe another time.”

 

He smiled at the crestfallen look on her face and shrugged, before flying out of the bar so fast that only a blur was left in his wake.

 

x x x x x 

 

Clark floated before the window to Lex’s office, the same way he always did, and Lex looked unsurprised to see him. In fact he even sighed and pressed the button on the side of his desk that allowed the windows to open, allowing him in. And Superman wondered just when he had let things become so cordial between them.

 

Lex turned his back on him as he entered, pretending to look over his papers with a practiced sort of nonchalance.

 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, this time?” he huffed a laugh. “Let me guess. Here to slap me on the wrist for evading prison time?”

 

“No.” Superman said and grabbed Luthor by the shoulder, whirling him around to face him. “That isn’t how it’s going to work between us anymore.”

 

Lex’s face changed. Perhaps he’d noticed the shine of red in his enemy’s eyes. But he reacted almost instantaneously- his arm shot out to hit the button under his desk that would alert his security team but Superman was faster, he grabbed his hand and squeezed, snapping the bones like they were twigs. Lex cried out in pain and more than that- shock. The blood trickling down the length of his arm not feeling real. Because Superman would never do this….

 

Clark swept his hand across the desk, knocking everything off of it including the phone, making sure it had disconnected.

 

“All this time I’ve been too lenient with you.” Superman said, with a sort of resigned calmness.

 

Lex was struggling valiantly even with his hand- now mangled, two fingers sticking out at slightly unnatural angles- still gripped and squeezed. But Superman was a steel wall. He made no effort to try and subdue Lex and that only further highlighted the difference in strength when Lex’s struggles remained futile.

 

“I could’ve destroyed you any time I wanted. I could have broken you. You have no idea… ” and now he gripped Lex by the throat, raising him up off the floor and tightening enough that Lex struggled for breath, gasping like a fish out of water. “How much I’ve been holding back.”

 

Clark ripped Lex’s belt off, dropping it to the floor and unceremoniously pulled his pants and boxers down to his knees, exposing him.

 

Lex let out a noise a bit like a yelp and immediately tried to wrangle free even in the choke hold he was in. His face showed genuine shock, confusion- one of the first times Superman had ever seen that expression on him in all of their many arguments and fights. Even as he tried to compose himself he could still see the fear in his eyes.

 

“Stop!” Lex said. It sounded like a demand but Superman knew it was likely the closest Lex would come to begging.

 

He released his grip on his throat but shoved him. With his pants around his ankles he stumbled and Superman forced him flat face down and bent over his desk. He was exposed, from the waist down. And then Clark put his hand across his thigh, smoothing upward, almost gently.

 

“Did your father ever used to spank you, Lex?” the alien purred, giving a sudden, rough, squeeze. Lex’s blood was running cold through his veins.

 

“Well I bet he never hit you as hard as I’m going to.” Superman finished and then swung his hand back and landed a hard blow across his ass. Lex cried out despite himself. He could hear his own breathing- frantic and scared. It had been a long time since he’d heard himself that way.

 

“Nothing to say? You know this is a situation that you really could talk your way out of, Lex. Like you seem to do so frequently. I’m surprised you’re not taking the opportunity.” Superman swatted his hand back down.

 

“I might stop if you beg me to.” another hit.

 

“Or tell me how sorry you are.” two more slaps in quick succession.

 

“Tell me you’ll behave yourself from now on.”

 

“Go to hell.” Lex bit out.

 

Superman shrugged. “Have it your way. I can do this much longer than you can.”

 

Lex actually whined from the pain as another particularly harsh blow came down. His forehead was pressed against the desk, better to cover his face.

 

“No one ever punishes you. That’s your problem, Luthor.” Superman said, almost nonchalantly as he continued to spank him. “And I’m at fault there too. Letting you talk your way out of prison time, keep coming back to LexCorp as if you never did anything wrong. It’s not good for you.”

 

Lex moved to scramble away but Superman thrust his face back down against the desk hard, keeping a grip on the back of his neck. He tried to force his entire body weight up to try and knock Superman’s grip free but he could hold him down so easily- he wasn’t sure he’d ever been quite as aware of his enemy’s physical strength over him until this moment. Had never realized how much he’d held back.

 

“Do you know what makes you my greatest enemy, Lex?” he paused. But Lex didn’t answer though the sound of his ragged breathing, his nose and mouth pressed against the surface of the desk, was audible. “It isn’t your brains, or your money, or influence. It’s your inability to ever be humbled.”

 

And then Clark leaned back and chuckled- actually laughed- and stroked his hand across Lex’s backside. Across the red marks, some in the shape of his hand, some that fell below to the upper part of his thigh.

 

“I think if you could see yourself now you’d feel humbled. Like the childish, naughty, spoiled brat that you are.”

 

Lex made a noise of protest and his fingers clawed at the edge of the desk, trying to find enough leverage to pull away from Superman’s one handed grip but he just floundered uselessly.

 

“I’m not done with you.” the caped hero said, his voice cold again, pulling Lex up by the scruff of his neck briefly only to slam his face down again. Blood pooled on the desk by Lex’s nose.

 

“I’m sure this part you’re used to.” Superman said casually, slicking two fingers in his mouth with his saliva and then promptly thrusting them into Lex without a shred of gentleness. He smiled when Lex jumped in surprise at the intrusion. “All that time you’ve spent in prison. I’m sure everyone wants a round with the rich boy.”

 

He began thrusting in and out with a merciless speed and depth. Lex was clenched so tight that his hips rocked back and forth with each motion of Superman’s fingers.

 

And then under his breath Superman began talking- this time more to himself than Lex, and his voice was ragged and the words came out in a rush.

 

“Always wanted you so bad… Even when you make me so fucking angry…. You’re the only one who makes me crazy like this. Felt so dirty wanting you…. just wanting so bad to take you…”

 

He pulled his fingers from Lex and began to undo his suit, pulling his already hard cock free.

 

“But I guess it never occurred to me. Until now. That I really could. Just take you. That I could have what I wanted and make you pay all at once-“

 

Superman pressed himself just at the entrance then slammed his hand over Lex’s- the one he’d broken- and squeezing it again, hard, just as he entered him. Lex screamed for the first time since they’d started. A broken howl that left him hyperventilating, trembling all over as Superman pushed himself as deep as he could go, his hips chafing and pressing against the skin he’d so recently bruised.

 

When he began to pull out it was slow, dragging against him excrutiatingly, then in one push thrusting back in to the hilt. He heard Lex’s stifled grunt of pain. The fingernails of his unbroken hand were scraping against the desk.

 

“Tell me how it feels.” Superman asked quietly. When Lex didn’t respond he squeezed his ass, hard, as he pushed back in again. “Tell me.”

 

Lex didn’t say a word. He’d been eerily quiet for a while now. And in Superman’s state it was making him even more furious.

 

“I want you to tell me how it feels to be powerless like this. Humiliated like this.”

 

At the lack of response Superman became frustrated and jammed his thumb into the hole he’d made in Lex’s shoulder. “Tell me or I’ll make this hole wide enough so that I can fuck it and I guarantee you won’t be able to stay silent if I do.”

 

He pressed his thumb in deeper, feeling it pass over the bone, until it was nearly poking out the other side of the wound.

 

Lex made a muffled keening noise, his breath coming out quickly from his nose- he was biting down on his lip hard enough that blood began to trickle down his chin.

 

“Do you want to know how I feel?” Superman said, pausing in his rhythm to press the back of his thighs against Lex’s ass, forcing his hips hard against the table as he leaned over his back to whisper in his ear.

“I feel amazing. You’re so tight and hot. I think I’m going to come back and do this all the time. Whenever I think you need reprimanding.”

 

And then a noise came from Lex’s mouth. And at first Superman pricked his ears to hear because he thought he was talking. But it started as almost panting and then he realized- it was laughter. Hysterical, breathless, strained, laughter.

 

“Why are you laughing? Why?!” Superman heard the edge of weakness- of surprise- in his own voice. Thrust deeper into Lex. Held him down harder.

 

“Because I’ve been right about you all along.” Lex said, the laughter dying down. Clark could see his mouth, his teeth were stained where the blood from his nose had dripped down. “You’re a monster.”

 

Clark grit his teeth, pressed harder into Lex, his hips moving faster and shallower. “We’re both monsters, Lex. I guess it just took me longer to realize it.”

And then he came. Groaning, throwing his head back and gasping at the feeling. At Lex tight around him and the feeling of release only intensified by the effects of the red kryptonite.

 

He pulled out slowly, holding Lex still and watching the way the cum and just a few drops of blood dripped down his thighs as he removed his length from him.

 

“God.” Clark said reverently under his breath, running his thumb along the rim of him. “I want this hole to be just mine. To fuck and use as much as I want.”

 

Lex was struggling again, the hand that was broken was gripping the edge of the desk, trying to pull his body across it and away from Superman. Superman grabbed him and turned him over, throwing him down on his back across the desk. Lex’s cock was half hard. He marveled at it, running his cum stained fingers across it.

 

“Do you want me to get you off, Lex? I will. This doesn’t have to just be about me. I can make you feel good. So good. All you have to do is let me. You have to let me. You have to promise you’ll be mine and do what I tell you.”

 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned over the desk and kissed Lex hard on the mouth. Lex was trying to bite him the entire time, pulling at his hair, scratching at his face. Clark savored the taste of him, his mouth, running his tongue along his teeth and roof of his mouth like he was trying to memorize the geography of it.

 

Finally Lex managed to force Superman’s head away, gripping him under his chin and pushing with all his strength.

 

There was knocking at the door.

 

“Sir? Sir!”

 

Lex’s heart rate jumped. Clark smirked. Fine, he thought, he wanted them to see. But Lex had managed to wriggle far enough away that he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a box, forcing it open clumsily with one hand and then a bright green glow covered both their bodies.

 

At first Clark just winced. The pain barely registered with him. Just the glow of it, the shock. The kryptonite was a large stone- cut like a diamond and refracting the sunlight coming in through the window. Then the pain began to start. Like his blood was boiling. Like every muscle was tensing without his control and suddenly sweat was pouring from him, he was panting and had fallen to his knees.

 

He touched his neck, feeling ill, feeling… not himself. And when he looked back at his hand he saw that his sweat was running tinged with red. The red kryptonite. It was working its way out of his system.

 

Superman looked up, dazed, at Lex. He was scrambling off the desk, still holding the green kryptonite protectively, using his other hand to pull his trousers up. His face covered in blood. Blood… he’d done that to him, hadn’t he. He remembered but it was as though he was watching someone else’s memories.

 

“Lex…” he said hoarsely, holding his hand out.

 

But just as he did the door to the office burst open and Lex’s bodyguards came in, guns out. Lex turned around to see them, only for a moment, but when he looked back, Superman was gone. The window still open that he’d so foolishly allowed him in.

 

x x x x x

 

Lex Luthor hated hospitals. He hated doctors. He’d hated them when they had crowded around his mother on her death bed like vultures. He’d hated them every time they’d tried to explain to him what was wrong with her in children’s terms when at age 12 he already knew more about human physiology than they ever would. He hated the judgement he either correctly or incorrectly perceived in their eyes every time he’d ever been examined.

 

His personal physician had been called to his office when Mercy and Hope had found him. Lex was already resetting the bones in his own hand by the time he’d come.

 

They’d gone to a private room connected to Lex’s office where he slept some nights when work kept him up too late to bother commuting back to his apartment. He undressed gingerly and used a towel from the bathroom to wipe away the leftover streaks from the back of his thighs.

 

The doctor asked if he wanted to press charges. What a stupid question. The doctor told him his hand would heal fully in about four weeks. He said none of the rest of the damage to his body would be permanent either.

 

Lex was usually impatient when it came to physical ailment or fragility. If he had a cold, he’d create an anti-virus for it so he wouldn’t have to miss work. He didn’t like to let any mere restriction of the body keep him from going about his life. But in this particular case he thought he might be able to use four weeks for more than just letting his bones mend. He needed time to plan. Although he’d already laid out the foundation. The moment Superman had grabbed him by the shoulders, he’d started strategizing a revenge. He’d gone through different scenarios in his mind as he’d been held down against the desk. Ranging from complicated to blissfully simplistic. His mind was preoccupied by these thoughts even as the doctor splint his fingers, even as he very gingerly spread Lex’s thighs with a latex gloved hand.

 

The doctor implied that Lex seek someone to ‘talk’ to. Lex dismissed him from his office. He’d tell Mercy later to have him followed. Killed. Pay off the family. Even with confidentiality in place, people could be unreliable in his personal experience. Lex Luthor hated doctors.

 

x x x x x 

 

 

Superman had never been good at apologizing. So embarrassed at having been found in the wrong. Never wanting to relinquish his role as the boy scout to admit he’d done something bad.

 

Well, Lex couldn’t blame him for the lateness of his apology at least. He’d spent the last four weeks hiding someplace not even Superman could find him. When he’d returned to Metropolis it had been nonchalantly. He’d simply gotten off the private jet and gone back to his apartment, settled onto his couch and poured himself a glass of scotch. And waited. It had taken 15 minutes after he sat down before a blue and red shadow was looming outside his window.

 

He was looking at him with that tragically doleful sad puppy dog face. As if he was the one who’d been betrayed.

 

He came in even though he’d seen how much lead was in the apartment. maybe he’d been so relieved to see Lex alive that he hadn’t cared. Maybe he hadn’t really thought Lex would use it.

 

“Lex…” he said, gently landing inside the pent house bedroom. “Thank god you’re alright. I’ve been looking for you- everywhere- I thought maybe you’d….”

 

Lex sat perfectly still, regarding him coldly from his chair.

 

Superman shook his head slightly, running a hand through his hair. He looked paler than before. But maybe that was just Lex’s imagination being overly generous. To think it had really caused him such grief.

 

“I hurt you. I know I can never atone for what I’ve done.”

 

Those beautiful, beautiful blue eyes. He always looked so sincere. And it always made Lex angry. He looked like someone who’d never learned how to lie, how to guard himself. But he lied all the time. And he’d never needed to guard himself. With that much power one could afford to be naïve and guileless. But even children and animals could hurt others in their misguided innocence.

 

“Things have never been easy between us.” he continued, rambling almost. “But I would never have done that to you- never, not in a million years- if I’d been myself. I’d do anything to take it back-“

 

“Well you can’t.” Lex finally spoke, his voice calm and even.

 

Superman’s mouth snapped shut abruptly and he stood looking at Lex, his chin still held up but in his eyes a guilt, a nervousness, almost like a school boy being reprimanded.

 

Lex held his gaze, running his thumb slowly along the edge of his glass of scotch. He let the silence sit in the room, filling up the space before he spoke again.

 

“For a long time we’ve been toying with each other. But I always thought that our game had rules. Now it seems as though those rules have changed.”

 

Superman’s jaw clenched and he took a step forward.

 

“I told you.” on the defensive now, already. “I wasn’t myself. I was under the influence of red kryptonite-“

 

“I know how red kryptonite works.” Lex interrupted him. “The things you do on it- they don’t just come from nowhere. There must have been some desire. No matter how deeply buried.”

 

Superman’s mouth opened and then closed again uselessly. Shame was written all oer his face.

 

“Tell me…” Lex said softly. As if asking out of simple curiosity. “Did you think about it? Ever? Having me like that?”

 

The other man swallowed, avoiding Lex’s eyes. Then staring at the floor he whispered “Yes.”

 

The corner of Lex’s lip turned up, a hint of a bittersweet smile.

 

“Well, I’ve thought about this too.” Lex said. He pulled a gun out of the inside of his jacket, pointed it toward the yellow S on the other man’s chest, and pulled the trigger.

 

The kryptonite bullet exploded on impact, shards spewing across Superman’s right shoulder, some going through him, landing on the floor behind him, others embedding in his flesh. Lex wished he could have seen it in slow motion. Savored it. But really it happened very fast. One moment the man of steel was standing in front of him with that self assured, self righteous posture, the next moment he was on the floor screaming in agony and writhing in a pool of his own blood.

 

Lex regarded him calmly. Superman’s left hand was clutching the wounded shoulder, tense and white knuckled, congealing green tinged blood seeping sluggishly between his fingertips. His head was thrown back, teeth clenched tightly together but even still every breath was a moan of pain.

 

Lex held up the gun, looking at it as casually as if he was examining his nails. “I’d been saving this for a special occasion. Wasn’t even sure if I’d have a chance to use it- or maybe just in self defense. It almost seemed unsporting.”

 

The man on the floor made a pained whine and began struggling to drag himself off the floor but his body just lurched uselessly leaving a trail of smeared blood across the mahogany.

 

He kneeled down next to the injured hero, regarding him with almost analytical apathy as he squirmed and convulsed, panting and whimpering. And then he carefully rolled him halfway onto his stomach and began pulling his cape down. Then, undoing the back of his suit, opening it so he could see the bare skin of his back.

 

Superman grabbed his arm, his grip tight and looked at him with pleading eyes. “Lex.” he choked out, teeth grit together from pain. “Lex…”

 

Usually he just called him ‘Luthor’ when they were fighting. ‘Lex’ was more intimate. But he’d misunderstood the situation, Lex thought. This was comeuppance, regularly scheduled as it ever had been, it was an equal and opposite reaction to an action. And there was no matter of choice or begging that would change that.

 

“Doing what you did to me wasn’t your greatest mistake.” Lex said softly. “Leaving me alive was.”

 

Whatever Superman had been about to say- a reasoning, begging, a demand- it died in his throat and his breath came out in stuttering pained gasps as Lex ripped down the back of his suit.

 

The kryptonian material clung to his form like a second skin, accentuating every muscle and curve of his beautiful body. It had to be practically peeled off- revealing smooth, sun soaked skin underneath. He considered telling him. How gorgeous he was. But it wasn’t the right time.

 

The kryptonite in him was making him uselessly weak but when Lex began to pull his suit off from the waist down he began to struggle in earnest, trying to push Lex’s hands away and groaning pitifully. “Lex! Lex!” he swatted his hands away easily, pulling down until the suit was at his knees. Then pulled off his boots, tossing them aside, and stripping the remainder of the tight blue fabric away.

 

Finally he was naked on the floor, the suit discarded to the side, red cape spilling like a bloodstain just out of his reach. He looked like Saint Sebastian, angelic face contorted in such a misery that it seemed nearly holy, muscular body twisting in pain and spilling crimson from the bullet wound in his shoulder, dark curls falling into his face. His cock hung limp but heavy between his legs, thick and long with a beautiful flushed tip.

 

Lex trailed his fingertips across the hero’s shoulder, up to his neck, cupping his face and wiping some of his hair from his forehead with a deceptively gentle touch. He looked up at him pleadingly with glassy eyes, his lips trembling.

 

“Do you know where I’ve been the last few months?” Lex asked quietly. He waited. Waited until Superman finally swallowed and shook his head slightly- the most motion he could manage in his state. “I took a vacation.” Lex smiled. “Well, a vacation from Lexcorp. From the world.”

 

He stood up, adjusted his tie and let the hand still holding the kryptonite loaded gun fall to his side.

 

“But in some ways I worked harder than ever. On our little problem.” He turned his back on the alien on the floor, pouring himself another glass of scotch. “In a way, it was exciting. I got to look at it with fresh eyes. Now that the rules have changed, of course. I felt like I was working without limits.”

 

He turned back around, smiling down at Superman amicably and limp wristing his glass and gesturing with his gun as he continued to speak.

 

“I came up with all sorts of ideas and blueprints. Not all of them ended up coming to fruition, but it’s good to have them in the vault so to speak. Kryptonite tipped arrows, and prison cells with red sun radiation, maybe even find some magic users to enchant some items to be used against you- though I never really like to get in with that particular crowd….”

 

As he rambled on Superman was trying to force himself upright on his elbows. He’d pulled himself up so he was nearly in a sitting position though the effort of it was clearly taking a toll- he was doused in sweat and his face was drained of color, his lips actually starting to tinge green. He was going to try and make a run for it.

 

Lex stopped mid sentence in his soliloquy to frown at him. Then without warning he pointed the gun and shot him in the kneecap. Superman’s scream was more like a primal howl this time- it stretched on and on until his voice cracked and it dissolved into loud sobbing. Lex sighed, impatient. The other man was curled up now, clutching his knee with both hands, blood dyeing his fingers red. He hadn’t been crying before, when it was just his shoulder injured, but now he was wailing with an open mouth, tears starting to form at the corners of his eyes.

 

Lex cocked his head to the side, “With your body’s resilience I’ve calculated you have at least another 40 minutes before the blood loss starts to be a real problem. There’s a 15% chance you’ll walk with a limp from now on but…” Lex smiled cruelly. “You’ve always been the lucky type so I wouldn’t worry unduly.”

 

Superman made a choked noise from the ground.

 

Lex scoffed. “You must have seen the kryptonite, or at least all the lead, when you first came into the room. Yet you came in anyway. Were you punishing yourself?  ** _Hoping_**  I’d hurt you? ….Or were you actually stupid enough to think I wouldn’t.”

 

Superman’s hand gripped Lex’s ankle- a death grip. His fingers were still strong even if the rest of him was shaking and pale.

 

“Lex… You don’t have to do this…” he said through strained breaths. His eyes looking pleadingly up at him from the floor were nearly electric blue- bright in a way Lex had never seen them before.

 

“You don’t get to take the moral high ground anymore.” Lex said curtly. He shook his leg but Superman’s hand stayed gripped where it was so with a sigh he bent down as if to tie his shoelace and carefully pried his fingers off one by one as he continued. “You didn’t let me finish what I was saying. I said I spent months planning but in the end…” He pulled the last finger away from his ankle and Superman in a rare act of defeat let his arm go limp. “…The simplest solutions are often the best ones. I’ve always had everything I needed to take you down. Maybe you didn’t realize that. Or maybe I didn’t. I guess we both needed the right push…”

 

Superman’s adam’s apple was wobbling, his eyes dewey and sorrowful as he shook his head silently while Lex ran his hand down the line of his neck, the center of his chest.

 

“You may have fantasized about me. What you could do to me. But I guarantee… you have no idea the type of things I’ve thought about doing to you.”

 

Lex got down on his knees next to Superman’s prone body. His knees soaked into the puddle of blood around him. Lex wondered if this is what Superman had seen when he’d looked down on him that day- if he’d been so desperate, so miserable, suffering etched on his face the way he saw it on Superman’s. The alien who made pain look so beautiful, so tragic. His pain was a comfort to Lex. It was something they shared. They’d shared it when he’d been the one who’d suffered and they would share it now, when he was the one doling it out. Burning them together- indelible, matching, scars.

 

“No…” Lex mumbled under his breath. “You have no concept of pain, do you?” Invincible alien god that he was. There were times when Lex fooled himself into thinking their similarities were the thing that kept them together, coming back to the same battlefields. But then he remembered how naïve it would be to think that way. The kryptonian couldn’t feel the way he felt. Had never suffered the way he had. So easy to save humanity when you’ve never known the heart ache of being a part of it. “You don’t know anything about pain… Not yet at least.”

He dipped down and very slowly dragged his tongue across his balls all the way up to the base of his spine in one stroke. Satisfied by the pleasured little gasp he heard.

 

Lex reached for something in his pocket and Superman flinched- maybe thinking it was something kryptonite. But it was just lubricant. He squeezed some onto his fingers and held the other man still with one hand as he slid the other between his legs and began slowly scissoring him open in careful, languid, strokes. Gently at first. Superman actually arched his back a bit to it even though he was wincing from the discomfort. By the time Lex was thrusting into him deeper and meeting less resistance, there was sweat beading on the other man’s forehead, his eyes kept fluttering almost closed as he stared dazedly at the ceiling. He wondered if he’d become aroused from it. But he supposed it didn’t matter. It would only be an amusing irony if he did.

 

Lex turned the alien carefully so he was face down on the floor, cheek resting against the floor boards, his knees still raising his backside to the air, like a mockery of a prayer pose. A bead of sweat rolled down the arched curve of his spine. Lex caught it on the tip of his finger and brought it to his mouth. It was as salty as blood.

 

“Stay still. And I won’t have to hurt you more than I already have.” Lex said calmly and Superman made a groaning noise of understanding.

 

He undid his belt, freed his cock, needing no coaxing to urge it to hardness. He’d been hard since Superman had gone down from the first kryptonite bullet.

 

Lex took his time, teased him, watched him shiver as he dragged the head of his cock over the pucker a few times before letting it just catch on the rim. He held him there and then leaned forward, grabbing Superman by the hair, grinding his face against the floor and then with his other hand pressing the kryptonite loaded gun against his temple. “Beg for it.” he said hoarsely. “Tell me how much you need it.”

 

Superman choked several harsh breaths first, collecting himself, sniffling so his voice came out clear even as it was muffled by his lips being pressed into the floor. “Please. Please, Lex. I need it. Need you to fuck me.”

 

Lex supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that the boy scout could take orders. When his stubborness wasn’t getting in the way. He released the grip in his hair, stroking the back of his neck as reward. The body prone under him seemed to relax for a moment. But he still cried out when Lex thrust into him without warning, seating himself fully in one stroke and pushing through the resistance of muscle.

 

“What? Don’t like it rough anymore? Or maybe you just don’t like to be on the receiving end.” Lex gritted out between his teeth as he pulled back an inch only to push back in, slapping his hips against Superman’s backside, his fingernails digging into the flesh of his thighs as he held him steady.

 

God, he was tight. It was hard not to cum too fast. He’d been waiting months just for this moment- no, if he was honest it had been years. Imagining nothing but this, of Superman’s heat desperately gripping him in a vice, the feeling of the frantic rush of blood to his muscles pulsing on Lex’s cock.

 

“You’re the one who said you’d wanted this, didn’t you? Dreamed about it? Does it live up to your expectations, Superman? Or can you only get off when you’re on red kryptonite?”

 

And then Superman through stifled sobs said something Lex truly hadn’t planned for in any of his calculations or fantasies of the night. He moaned “Harder. Please. Harder!”

 

He knew he deserved it. The fucking martyr. And Lex hated him all the more for it. Was turned on all the more for it. Wanted to fuck him until he couldn’t take any more punishment.

 

He hissed, pulling out, slamming back in, vicious pleasure ripping through him as he felt Superman squirm helplessly, gasping and choking and then moaning when a violent thrust accidentally slammed against his prostate.

 

He couldn’t hold back anymore though- his own needs too powerful, his hips were flush against the alien beneath him, only able to rut against him frantically, seeking relief. In response Superman clenched around him, his hands fisted against the floor and his ribs heaving with every choked breath.

 

Lex thrust as deep as he could go and reached around to pump Superman’s half hard cock, until with each stroke of his hand pre-cum slid down his knuckles. Superman howled like a wounded animal when he came, bucking under Lex who could barely hold him down even as weak as he was. His hands slipped in the blood under their bodies and he had to grasp for purchase against the larger man’s arm. It only took a few more weak slides in and out of Superman’s now thoroughly fucked hole for Lex to come. And then his head was falling back, mouth open, almost a smile- victorious. The orgasm felt like it burned through him, made his vision go white, made his blood go feverishly hot, and then all too soon the sensation fled from his body and he was just panting and loose limbed, barely holding himself up on top of his victim.

 

Lex caught his breath and then pushed himself up on to his knees. He picked up the discarded red cape thrown to the side and used it to wipe off his cock like it was a rag before tossing it back onto the floor.

 

He stared down at the alien who was barely strong enough to turn over onto his back to stare up at him. He wondered if it was just a kryptonian quirk that his face wasn’t puffy from all that crying. It still looked beautiful even stained with tears and snot. But his eyes were glassy. He really would die soon. It was time to call it a night.

 

“You came here looking for easy forgiveness.” Lex said, getting to his feet. He picked up the cape from the ground and tossed it on top of Superman, so he would have something to cover himself with. “But I’ll always retaliate with equal force, you should know that by now.”

 

He watched, took a sip of the scotch he’d left by his chair, as Superman quivering pulled the cape around himself, trying to hold the wound on his shoulder closed with his hand even as blood slipped through his fingers.

 

Lex shrugged one shoulder, nonchalantly. “You could try to beg me not to kill you right now.” He nudged at Superman’s bleeding leg with the toe of his shoe. “Beg to be kept as my kryptonian pet. I’d take care of you. It might not be such a bad life.”

 

The alien made a snarling noise at him. He chuckled. But then abruptly became somber, staring into his nearly empty glass and running his thumb around the rim.

“No. I think we both know I’m not going to kill you tonight…” he murmured, bittersweetly, like he regretted it.

 

“I’ll let you go…. Because you owe me.” and at those words he met Superman’s eyes, staring at him coldly. “You would have done worse to me if I hadn’t found the kryptonite when I did. And you know that tonight I could have done much worse to you. I could kill you right now. I could have killed everyone close to you before even meeting with you tonight. But I didn’t. Because as strange as it may seem, there’s still still a way for this to end on amicable terms.”

 

Superman didn’t say a word, just held Lex’s gaze.

 

“We call it even.” Lex said simply. And he sat down in his chair once more, as casually as if Superman wasn’t lying in a pool of his own blood in front of him, and crossed his legs. “You hurt me, I hurt you. We both crossed the same line. No one else was involved, and as long as you get yourself to a doctor within the next 30 minutes, there shouldn’t be any lasting bodily harm.”

 

Superman forced himself into a sitting position. “I never wanted to hurt you, Lex.” his voice was strung out from the crying and screaming. He looked sickly as if he could barely keep his eyes open.

 

Lex opened his mouth to contradict what he’d said but before he had a chance, Superman was speaking again.

 

“…But I know I did.” he took a shaky breath out through his nose, and hung his head. “You said I wanted easy forgiveness but… when I came here tonight, I was prepared to do anything to make it up to you. Anything.”

 

Lex stood up silently, walked to the man crying with his head hung and carded his hand through his hair gently. “I couldn’t have asked for more from you.” he said under his breath. Superman leaned forward, burying his face against Lex’s thigh, fisting both hands in the fabric of his pants.

 

“I’m sorry…” he choked out, sobbing once again. “I’m so sorry…”

 

“Shhh,” Lex soothed, petting him. “It’s enough. You have to go now. Before your injuries get too serious.”

 

Superman just pulled him closer and Lex finally succumbed to getting back on his knees to be at his height and wrapped his arms around the alien’s neck. “I forgive you.” he whispered. “I forgive you…” again and again.

 

x x x x x  

 

Lex always rose early, arriving at his office to look down at Metropolis before the world woke up. The city felt reborn under the pale, timid, light of the sun peaking over the horizon.

 

Superman’s body cast a shadow from outside the window across the floor so he needn’t turn around before pressing the button under his desk that opened the glass- as if he’d learned nothing.

 

The alien landed silently on the floor, and Lex noticed how he didn’t quite stumble but how he landed on one foot and tread more lightly with the other, favoring one side. But it didn’t seem to matter to him. Superman stood in front of him with the fearlessness with which the illumination of the morning meets the darkness of the night at dawn, and this, in itself, was a miracle.

 

Lex faced him, leaning back against his desk with his hands in his pockets.

“How are your injuries?” he asked, as casually as if he hadn’t been the one to cause them.

 

But Superman just stepped closer to him, something nearly like a gentle smile moving the corners of his lips imperceptibly. “They’ll heal.”

 

He pulled down the fabric of his suit at his shoulder, baring sun-soaked skin marred by a pale, raised scar, wide and jagged and nearly the size of Lex’s palm; but it had only been a week and it was so faded it looked like he’d had it for years.

 

Lex reached out hesitantly before letting his fingers light over the skin. Superman wrapped his other hand around Lex’s outstretched wrist, his thumb against his pulse.

 

“I’ve been told in another week or so there won’t even be a mark,” Superman said quietly.

 

Lex swallowed. Superman pulled his wrist forward, ever so slightly, so Lex’s palm met the scar, and his breath hitched at the feeling of it, the roughness of the skin, as if his body held a memory of how that spot of skin had felt soaked in thick blood, the bone visible like the pit of a fruit surrounded by pithy, red flesh, only a few days before. And his eyelids fluttered, his pupils blown wide suddenly at how vividly it comes back to him.

 

“Then I guess it will be like it never happened,” Lex said, a little ruefully, letting his palm move southward on his shoulder, splaying his fingers so they matched the sharp angles at the edges of the starburst-shaped scar.

 

There was a calm between them now. A placidity born out of the despair that felt familiar. Like two people who had yelled at each other until their throats had gone raw and their jaws ached and catharsis had been achieved and could wash the noise off of themselves through the ensuing silence. Though there was never silence for Superman. For even in his dreams he heard Lex Luthor’s heartbeat.

 

The parts of themselves that wanted to break every bone in the other’s body or kiss every inch of their flesh were back at their usual equilibrium that they’d so carefully toed the line of for so many years.

But then Clark leaned forward and pressed his lips to Lex’s jawline. And the scales tipped once again.

 

 

> _"the gentleness that comes,_
> 
> _not from the absence of violence, but despite_
> 
> _the abundance of it."_
> 
> _— Richard Siken, “Snow and Dirty Rain”_


End file.
